I am very glad. I am glad with all my heart. 3 And yet he could not curse Satan, nor injure him by word, because he had no authority over him, neither did he take to doing so with words from his mouth. 7 But before that, God had made this covenant with our father, Adam, in the same terms, before he came out of the garden, when he was by the tree where Eve took of the fruit and gave it to him to eat. My own dear girl, I have been cruel to you鈥攂rutal and unkind; but you would forgive me if you knew what I have suffered since noon yesterday; and, indeed, my suffering began before then. That man's harping on Lostwithiel's name in all his talk with you鈥攈is air of meaning more than he said鈥攁nd your embarrassment, awakened suspicions that had to be set at rest somehow. Remember the disadvantages under which I labour鈥攖he difference in our ages; my unattractiveness as compared with younger men. These things predisposed me to doubt your love. I have not had a moment's peace since the night of that odious dinner-party. Yes; I have felt a new sensation. I know what jealousy means. But it is past. Praise be to God, it is past. I have come out of the cloud again. Oh, my love, had it been otherwise! Had we been doomed to part! But I shall take a house at San Remo, Allegra. Do you expect me to turn innkeeper鈥攃harge you for your bed and board? Intensely. They are histories in brick and stone, are they not? I dare say there are stories about this room. Av天堂影院首页 There must be no smiling with Cruikshank. A man who does not laugh outright is a dullard, and has no heart; even the old dandy of sixty must have laughed at his own wondrous grotesque image, as they say Louis Philippe did, who saw all the caricatures that were made of himself. And there are some of Cruikshank's designs which have the blessed faculty of creating laughter as often as you see them. As Diggory says in the play, who is bidden by his master not to laugh while waiting at table鈥?Don't tell the story of Grouse in the Gun-room, master, or I can't help laughing." Repeat that history ever so often, and at the proper moment, honest Diggory is sure to explode. Every man, no doubt, who loves Cruikshank has his "Grouse in the Gun-room." There is a fellow in the "Points of Humor" who is offering to eat up a certain little general, that has made us happy any time these sixteen years: his huge mouth is a perpetual well of laughter鈥攂uckets full of fun can be drawn from it. We have formed no such friendships as that boyish one of the man with the mouth. But though, in our eyes, Mr. Cruikshank reached his apogee some eighteen years since, it must not be imagined that such is really the case. Eighteen sets of children have since then learned to love and admire him, and may many more of their successors be brought up in the same delightful faith. It is not the artist who fails, but the men who grow cold鈥攖he men, from whom the illusions (why illusions? realities) of youth disappear one by one; who have no leisure to be happy, no blessed holidays, but only fresh cares at Midsummer and Christmas, being the inevitable seasons which bring us bills instead of pleasures. Tom, who comes bounding home from school, has the doctor's account in his trunk, and his father goes to sleep at the pantomime to which he takes him. Pater infelix, you too have laughed at clown, and the magic wand of spangled harlequin; what delightful enchantment did it wave around you, in the golden days "when George the Third was king!" But our clown lies in his grave; and our harlequin, Ellar, prince of how many enchanted islands, was he not at Bow Street the other day,* in his dirty, tattered, faded motley鈥攕eized as a law-breaker, for acting at a penny theatre, after having wellnigh starved in the streets, where nobody would listen to his old guitar? No one gave a shilling to bless him: not one of us who owe him so much. Some eleven months had elapsed since the last advertisement had been published, offering a large reward for information concerning the marriage of Herbert Farrington and Annie Orde, but no satisfactory answer had been received. Hope was already failing all but the sanguine old Lady Farrington, who kept on declaring persistently that the right would certainly prosper in the end. As she was the only person who stoutly maintained that proofs of the marriage must certainly be forthcoming, so she was the only one who was not surprised, when one morning a mysterious letter arrived from no one knew where, and sent by no one knew whom. A. Not exceeding thirty-nine lashes. But all these did not half suffice to exhaust his native energy, developed and increased as it had been by his recent active life. He panted continually for more to do. He grew more and more hipped and out of joint. He was so lonely too. Under the peculiar circumstances of his early career it was little likely that he would have many acquaintances of his own age. He might perhaps hunt up a few of his old Deadham school friends, but school friends in after life do not run up against each other much, unless they have been at Eton, Harrow, or the like, and belong of right to the great world. He had no club as yet; no military comrades even. He had so recently passed across the great gulf which divides the commissioned officer from the rank and file, that he had not been accepted by the one, although he had left the other altogether behind. Why don't I live on Fifth Avenue, and set up my carriage? 'Cause it can't be done on eight dollars a week. I have to live accordin' to my income.